


We're No Good

by Cail



Category: Homestuck
Genre: ?????, Angst, Attempted Kidnapping, Blood, Choking, Domestic Violence, Drugs, Humanstuck, Karkat Angst, M/M, References to Drugs, Violence, attempted drowning, fuck a lot of shit happens okay, gamzee fucks up, gamzee potties, karkat gets beat up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 05:22:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2179506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cail/pseuds/Cail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm sick and fucking tired of being your punching bag, I can't do it anymore, I'm done, I'm leaving, okay, I cannot handle this shit." What utter bullshit. Punching bag? Like hell, you didn't treat him like that, why was he saying this. If he wanted to leave why didn't he leave before, why did he have to come over and tell you lies to your face? "So, that's it, huh? You're just going to walk into a brothers house and all up and leave him like that?" The back of your neck burned and the scorn in your voice seemed to register with him because he backed away a little bit, you couldn't see it, but you felt it. "I had to tell you in person, otherwise you wouldn't really believe me, would you? I know how you are, Gamzee, and if I ca-" You cut him off with your hand slamming against the floor, your lips pulled back into a snarl and your voice rose in volume as soon as it began. "No, no, no, no! This is not happening, I won't allow this!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're No Good

There was never any doubt in your mind, you wanted to be with him forever. You needed him, craved him, your desire to touch him surpassed even your need to eat. You barely conveyed your thoughts, you would rather show them with your actions, but sometimes even those fuck up, and this malfunction in your personality has caused quite the stir in your almost fairy tale romance. At least that's how you saw it. He on the other hand still battled his thoughts, he didn't know if he even had the sanity to maintain this fucked up relationship, he's tired of pulling such useless endeavors to fix the parts of him you wrecked absentmindedly, he cannot change you, he doesn't know how to save himself and he has half a foot out the door, but part of him does not want to fully give up on you. Part of him wants it to work out, for a miracle to happen where you change and everything becomes **bearable**. For a chance to save the both of you, to be able to hold on to someone who cares for him even if it's just barely that. 

Unfortunately, life does not work like that. People don't just change, and people who were not even aware there was a problem, cannot fix said problem. He'll keep hoping, and you'll keep doing what you do. That's how this relationship really was. All take, no give. None of this seemed odd to you, nothing was wrong, that fear that glossed over his eyes when you approached him without warning was normal, he just didn't understand your humor. The _lovebites_ that grew in color and quantity all over his body was just what came with the territory of having a passionate lover, right? Though he was a bit clumsy, you wish he would get a handle on that, it was annoying to have him hiss and shy away when you touched him, he shouldn't hurt himself so much. 

Your name's Gamzee Makara, you have had an addiction to narcotics for as long as you could process, you have prescriptions for various drugs such as Divalproex, Valproic, and Lithium, and you've been known to dabble into acid. All of which you have given up cold turkey at the request of your boyfriend, Karkat, almost a month ago. It was not a fun process, you had moments where you could not even move out of bed, you just wanted to **die** , but he was worth it, so you thought. You could get past this if it meant you would be able to stay with Karkat, but after a while your mood swings were getting worse, he had no clue you stopped taking your medication, when he said "stop taking fucking drugs" you literally stopped taking all drugs, and now you couldn't control it. You hated it, not being in control of your body, it felt like someone else crawled into your skin and started piloting you from your brain. 

Some days were better than others, sometimes you could go a week without getting thrown into a fit of rage or depression, but that was rare. Karkat started to avoid you more, he didn't answer his phone, kept his chat off, he doesn't even visit anymore, and it's starting to piss you off. You hated to be ignored and that's how you felt right now, you needed his attention, you needed to be affectionate with him. So, you kept bugging him, and bugging, leaving countless messages, turning up at his apartment, you even tried going to his work, but you didn't know his schedule. It's been a week and you're starting to fall apart, you have been sitting in your empty bathtub for four hours, repeating the words 'is this it' over in your mind. You couldn't place your fingers on where you went wrong, everything seemed so perfect, so pristine, you guys were happy, so you thought. Maybe you didn't say you loved him enough? You don't like how those words sound out of your mouth, but maybe he needed to hear it, maybe he didn't think you loved him enough. You were almost certain that was it, and you leaned haphazardly over the edge of your bathtub, pinching your side in the process of grabbing your phone and pressing the call back button, letting it ring for a second before pressing it to your ear and hearing the familiar sound that you were almost certain belonged only to the other's phone.

It rang five times, and you were about to get discouraged until you heard the noise cut off and a quiet sigh came from the other line. "Gamzee." You could almost burst into tears from how happy you were at hearing his voice, and if you weren't celebrating so quickly you would have caught the tiredness that lined your name out of his mouth, but things like that never dawn on you. "Karkat, my beautiful motherfucking friend, I missed you." Your reply was almost too giddy even for your own standards, but fuck did you miss him. 

"I know, Gamzee." He replied, monotone as ever, and somehow even that made you swell more with happiness. He seemed normal to you, maybe nothing was wrong and it was all in your head? He was probably really busy and didn't want to hurt your feelings by telling you to go away, you'd have to assure him later that he did a poor job of that. 

"Where have you been, my brother? I'm all hells of lonely and could use a little bit of vitamin k in my dinner, if you know what I'm saying." You mused almost instantaneous, if you would have taken a second to phrase your words correctly you probably, or wouldn't have, picked something less embarrassing to say, but that didn't dawn on you. You needed to see him, and you were going to have him over one way or another. 

The other side of the line was quiet for a while, he was probably contemplating your offer, you could imagine it now, he was probably scowling like he always does, the way his brows furrow when he thinks heavily on anything always made you find him that more adorable, but you learned never to say that out loud. Apparently calling another man adorable was taboo, but you could never find anything else to describe him so perfectly. "Okay." That word was drawn out slightly as he said it, but you, as always, didn't look into it, just told him to come over at seven and not to be late, and he hung up without another word. You were too excited to contain yourself and flailed around quietly in the tub, a huge grin plastered perfectly on your face. When he walked through your doors you weren't letting go of him for years. Not until one of you dies. Of course, at that time you would have just said that you were joking about that, but it's scary how right you are about things. 

Having a few hours to kill until he would visit, and probably get forced into spending the night, you decided you might as well make use of this bathtub, seeing as though you could not remember the last time you bathed. The answer was two weeks ago, but you didn't care to think back on it. You merely pushed down your pants, boxers along with it, pulled your shirt off and added it to the pile of unwashed clothes and tossed it onto the ground, pushing your foot out to turn the water on, all the way to the hottest temperature like you liked it. It didn't take long for the water to reach its' hottest point and the steam fogged the mirrors minutes later. Your feet were the first to feel the temperature, but it didn't bother you much, you often went barefooted so those puppies were calloused beyond believe, it wasn't until the water rose to your hips that it started to phase you that your skin was burning, you always thought the heat felt constricting, as if it was trying to pull you down and hold you in place, as much as your body wanted to jerk up and rip itself off you remained stationary. It was not until the water approached your navel that you inched your foot back to turn it all the way to the coldest setting, the sudden movements only exasperating the pain and you couldn't help but bite your lip. 

After a long while the cold fought the scorching heat and they came to an agreement on a moderately warm degree to settle with. Your body felt like it was sweating under the water, and that notion always struck you as odd, but never failed to present itself. As soon as the thought came up, though, you pushed it away, numbing your mind of any thought like you usually do. You let out a sharp exhale through your nose, then allowed your body to go limp, sliding down the bathtub more until the surface tickled under your nose, as if to warn you of its' presence. You didn't mind, though, even played around by blowing air out of your nose to watch the ripples in the water. You found amusement in this for a good few minutes, you did not really care to bathe so you typically put it off, and when you got this far you had to work up the motivation to finish the job.

Fifteen minutes of just soaking there, you finally did something. Slowly pushing yourself up into a sitting position, you scrunched up your face, ceased breathing out of your nose and leaned forward to plunge your head into the water. In and out in less than five seconds, when you snapped your head back out of the water your hair trailed a large amount of the liquid with it, soaking the wall and splashing onto the floor, you did not mind, though. You merely reached over, pulled the shampoo bottle to your chest and squeezed out a large glob into your palm, shoving the bottle into the corner edge of the tub and began to roughly lather the soap into your long hair, working it up until suds ran down your face, some daring to attack your eye, though the burning felt like nothing compared to other things you've experienced in your life, so you dealt with it. Once you have deemed it clean, you leaned back and pushed your body underwater, running your slender fingers through your locks, and washing the shampoo out quite quickly, resurfacing with an audible breath. "Motherfucking good enough." You groaned out, lifting out of the water and stepping out onto the bare floor, a puddle immediately forming around your feet thanks to your soaking hair. As with everything before this, you did not find yourself bothered about this.

Reaching over to pull your towel to your body you immediately ran it through your hair, gathering as much of the loose water as possible before throwing your head forward and wrapping the towel around your hair, leaving it on your head. The cold air hit you a while back, but the prolonged exposure to it recently made you realize your striking urge to piss. It seemed like too much of a bother to lift the toilet lid, so you did what came natural to yourself, which meant turning around, aiming for the abandoned water and releasing yourself with a sigh, the sound of liquid against liquid filled the room and it was almost therapeutic to you, and before you knew it you emptied your bladder and glanced down at the water for a fraction of a second, shaking off any excess drops of urine before reaching over to your cabinet to pull off another towel, immediately running it over your chest, and down your body as quickly as possible.

Your skin was still damp, but you were aching to leave the bathroom, so you wrapped the second towel around your waist and walked into the dark hallway, squinting to make out the small stream of light coming from your bedroom. Your hallway didn't have light in it, and even if it did, you doubt you would ever turn it on. You lived in a house, which you enjoyed for the soul purpose of having room for your many hobbies and even more so for entertaining guests, if that day ever came, but houses were not cheap, and it came at the cost of living in a bad neighborhood. You knew you could handle yourself, but your guard was always up just in case.

Three strides were all you needed to cross the distance to your bedroom, pushing the door open with your foot since the knob was broken, exposing the dark hallway to the light from your lamp before entering the tiny bedroom, dropping the towel into the growing pile by the door. You still trailed water as you walked to your dresser, it's what happened with hardwood floors, and you told Karkat many times that when you guys move in together you wanted the place to be decked out with carpet, he never commented on this, but you're sure he feels the same. The thought of him brought a smile to your lips and you could not help the humming you did as you pulled out a fresh pair of boxers and slipped them on, shifting over to the biggest drawer and pulled out basic black sweatpants from it. Working your feet into them was a bit tough, even more so if you happen to be half wet and trying to walk to your closet while you did so, but somehow you managed, without falling flat on your face for once, and as soon as you got to your closet, which remained open always due to lack of a door, you ripped a random shirt off of a hanger, happy to note that said hanger did not retort in some act of violence via a swift flight from the rack to hit you in the head. One quick glance down to the material in your hand told you that your shirt was one of your many band t-shirts, this one of one of your lesser favorite band called Hurt, you couldn't help it, you had a thing for unorthodox, so you happily pulled it on, letting it fall over your pants without adjusting it.

The last moment you checked the time showed that you had a few hours before his arrival, and you couldn't think of anything to do, cleaning never dawned on you, which was a shame because your house desperately needed a good pick up, but instead of even entertaining that thought you swaggered over to your bed, eyes already fluttering at the prospect of napping before Karkat came over, and as soon as you collapsed onto of the unmade bed, you were curled in on yourself and in the early stages of sleep, fifteen minutes later you were out like a light, which is unfortunately what happened to the bulb in your lamp, though your napping self was unaware of the sudden darkness the engulfed you. 

\---------

You awoke with a silent startle by the sound of your front door closing, you didn't have time to process any coherent thoughts, someone was in your house, there was an intruder trespassing on your property and you had to get rid of them. As quietly as you could manage, you peeled yourself from your bed and headed to your bedroom door. There were footsteps approaching, they must be trying to find you right away and kill you before you had a chance to stop them, at least that's what you would do in their situation. So, you decided to wait, positioning yourself at the threshold of your door, waiting for the person to come close enough to you. And when he did you were ready with a quick swing outwards and your fist connected with their jaw, knocking them back and falling with a slam onto the floor, that surprised you, the fact that you managed to hit them, you couldn't see shit in this darkness but that wouldn't stop you. You weren't done yet though. As soon as the person went down you leapt out and tackled into them, roughly pinning your knee into their chest and letting your fist go wild at their face. You couldn't remember how many punches you got in until you heard a shrill plead for you to stop in an all too familiar voice, and that's when it dawned on you. Karkat was here.

"Get off me, you fucking ass!" He cried, his voice failed to hide the pain he was feeling from the beating, and the dampness to your fist became apparent to you now. "Karkat! Shit, my brother." You responded a minute later, your voice oddly calm for just beating the shit out of your boyfriend, but your body showed your slightly distress as you removed yourself from on top of him and pulled his chest up, holding him into a sitting position while your hand felt over his face, earning a hiss from the other man and he gave your chest a rough push, hard enough for you to let him go and throw your hand back to catch yourself. "This is **exactly** the reason why I'm even here, Gamzee." 

You didn't quite care for his tone, actually this whole incident was beginning to press against your skin, this isn't how you wanted this to go. You wanted to greet him at the door and fall into his arms, you wanted to kiss him all the way to the couch and you just wanted to make him cuddle you there all night long. You didn't want to sit in the darkness of the hallway after attempting to punch him into submission, and you certainly didn't expect to have his blood run down your fingers and drop onto the floor below you. Somewhere inside of you decided to just say 'fuck it' and you leaned in for a kiss, finding his face after a second and quickly pressing your lips against his soon after, only to be met by his hands coming up to your cheeks and prying you off with a growl. "No, Gamzee, no more. I'm done."

He wouldn't be able to see it, but you narrowed your eyes at him, one brow raising in question. "Done with what?" You asked, and he gave a condescending laugh, which made your blood start to boil. His reply was immediate, almost rehearsed, as if he practiced saying this word over and over, picking the tone he would use, the volume of his voice, but you didn't want to hear it, and as soon as it was uttered out of his mouth, as soon as you heard him scoff out 'us' whatever was left of anything you cared about went down the drain. "Excuse me, motherfucker?" 

"I'm sick and fucking tired of being your punching bag, I can't do it anymore, I'm done, I'm leaving, okay, I cannot handle this shit." What **utter** bullshit. Punching bag? Like hell, you didn't treat him like that, why was he saying this. If he wanted to leave why didn't he leave before, why did he have to come over and tell you lies to your face? "So, that's it, huh? You're just going to walk into a brothers house and all up and leave him like that?" The back of your neck burned and the scorn in your voice seemed to register with him because he backed away a little bit, you couldn't see it, but you felt it. "I had to tell you in person, otherwise you wouldn't really believe me, would you? I know how you are, Gamzee, and if I ca-" You cut him off with your hand slamming against the floor, your lips pulled back into a snarl and your voice rose in volume as soon as it began. "No, no, no, no! This is not happening, I won't allow this!"

Nothing else was said, at least, not that you knew about, you were too busy shoving him into a wall, you did not know how you stood up so fast, or how hard you slammed him into the wall, but if the groan he let out was any indication, hard enough would be your guess. "You're not leaving me now, I need you." You sneered out, your face coming closer to his and you felt him tremble underneath you a little, he usually tried to keep his composure up until he couldn't handle it and cracked, you liked that part. When he would slump to the ground in a puddle of his own blood and tears, and if you were scary enough sometimes even his bladder failed him. "You're not leaving me." You repeated, shaking him by his collar, and his hands came up to yours, trying to pry your fingers from his shirt, but that was no use, you had a tight grip on it, and you weren't letting go this time.

You had to give it to him, he was really trying to escape, maybe somehow he knew that his life was probably in serious danger now? Regardless, no matter how much he struggled or tried to hook his body around various furniture or grab something to throw at you while you dragged him out of the hallway and into the living room, you were not letting go **ever** again. But his panic was starting to get audible, and as much as you loved hearing his beg and scream you didn't want the neighbors calling the cops on you again, so you dragged the both of you to your stereo and put on the first CD in the tray and the room immediately filled with the sound of Blue Oyster Cult, but you weren't listening. You threw the man below you into the back of the couch and sent him a wicked grin, his sound of pain upon impact drowned out by the music, and when you crept closer, kneeling in front of him, he shocked you with a well timed, well placed punch in the face and your head reeled back, a hiss escaping your lips and the burning feeling of a bruise in the making made you frown. Any sane part of you left after that, and Karkat was going to get it now. 

He attempted to take the opportunity the punch gave him to scramble up and dash to the door, but the second his foot crossed over your leg, you had his ankle in a tight grip, and before he could turn and kick your wrist broken you pulled back with all your might and sent him back into the coffee table nearby. It wasn't a hard throw, it would have been if you were not currently sitting on the ground, but the impact gravity had on his fall sent a beautiful crack throughout the room, and his scream of pain just slightly licked your ears.

He fell back onto the ground in a mess of pain, you were sure if you lifted up his shirt and turned on more light than just a lamp and a crack from the window you would be able to see the formation of a bruise, and if you were really lucky, maybe skin broke and his back was starting to get soaked in his own blood. There was something intoxicating about Karkat's blood. You've seen blood throughout your whole life, but his always struck you as the most beautiful shade you ever saw, and you practically got drunk on the euphoria brought on when you knew you were the one who drew it out of him. The dried feelings on your knuckles became more apparent to you, and you quickly decided you needed more of his blood to satisfy you.

Your thoughts of his blood distracted you for only a minute, but when you came back into your reality, he was slowly trying to crawl to the door. His back wasn't broken, if it was he wouldn't be currently moving, but you were sure he was in a whole mess of pain right now. The pain you gave him, the pain you would continue giving him.

It took you less than three seconds to cross over to him and pick him up by the front of his shirt, his face was twisted into a look that made the pain he was currently feeling more real to you, and you _loved_ it. You gave him a smirk before he sneered at you and coughed, the sound bothered you more than you cared to admit and the punch you gave into his gut was more of a lesson than anything, a warning to not make noises that weren't screams, and he went limp against your hand for a moment before you grabbed his shirt with your other hand and tosses him against your lounge chair with full force. He hit the edge with a loud yelp and tumbled over along with the chair. That seemed to wake him back up and a second later he was pulling himself up against the turned over chair and back onto his feet, but you were there with a sharp kick in the chest and you felt the small drops of blood hit your pants leg before he flew back and onto the floor with a loud thumb, and you jumped after him, fist swinging rapidly against his face and he threw his arms up weakly to block your blows, but you managed to get six good hits on before he twisted his body and kicked you off, following through with a punch of his own. You always liked how feisty he was, how no matter how much you wailed on him, he never lost his fighting spirit until he collapsed unconsciously.

He tried to run again, and it took you longer than usual to scramble up and tackle his legs, but you did and he fell back down, hands trying to cushion his fall, but from the sound you knew that barely worked. You stood up again, looming over him and promptly kicked him in the gut. He hunched over, groaning in pain and tried to block you from his stomach, but just you just kicked through his arms, and when you heard a loud cracking sound and his high pitched scream, you knew he was over. The small amount of light illuminated his face and the tears caught in his eyes, and the way his mouth contorted sent a small shiver down your spine. He was curled in on himself, shaking from the pain and gripping at his newly broken arm, and it dawned on you that this was the first time you ever actually broke one of his bones. Though you knew damn well, even that wasn't going to stop you, you had a job to finish and this was getting dragged out, your pants were gathering his blood each time you wiped your fists and his shirt was starting to dampen around his collar. It was time to move this along. 

You picked him up from the back of his neck, dragging him across the room and back to the hallway, he didn't resist as much as before, he was probably still dealing with the pain from his arm, and you pitied him for it, but only briefly. When you reached the bathroom he seemed to have overcome the pain and started to thrash against your grip, but he wouldn't be strong enough to break loose, so you didn't bother to stop him, instead dragged him into the room and placed him against the tub briefly to recollect yourself. Your thoughts wandered a bit, but you knew what you were doing, and a minute later you straddled his body and gripped his shirt tightly. He was about to open his mouth to question this, but you quickly lifted him up and plunged his head into the now cold bath water. Bubbles rose from where his mouth had been open and he writhed under you, good hand coming up to push at your face in a desperate attempt to get you away, but you didn't budge and held his head under for a little while longer before pulling him up and he gasped immediately, coughing up water and you thought back to your bath and what you put into the water afterwards, and somehow knowing that your urine was probably just in his lungs made it that sweeter. He tried to slink away before you could do it again, but he wasn't quick enough and as soon as he was out of the water you forced him back in, this time holding him under long before pulling him up.

You kept this up over and over until he finally stopped fighting back, and at that moment you pulled him up and threw him onto the ground. You could tell from his eyes that he was pulling in and out of consciousness and you brought your fist back and dropped it hard against his temple and he fell over. You sat back against your toilet and allowed yourself a second to compose your thoughts before continuing on, but you had no time to waste, a few minutes later you were standing up and slinging him over your shoulder, walking out of the bathroom and to the door at the end of the hallway that led down to the basement. You didn't keep much in here except for your clown collection, you secretly enjoyed looking at their mirthful faces, but other people found them off putting, so you kept them all out of sight. You never really visited your basement, but it was underground and you didn't have any windows in there so it seemed like the best place to hold someone hostage, though slightly cliché. 

You grabbed one of your lawn chairs from against a wall and set it in the middle of the room, dropping Karkat on top of it and setting him up to sit properly in the chair. You hummed to yourself, the music from upstairs wasn't as loud down here, but you could still hear a good bit of it, but not enough for it to drown out your thinking. It took you less than a minute after putting him on the chair to decide to lift off his shirt, his torso was spotted with various bruises and your trailed your fingers to each tender spot, a grin wide against your features. You would have kept yourself distracted by the beautiful sight, but you didn't know how long he would stay passed out and you needed to tie him down and gag him.

The rope was easy to find, you had some not too far from your current spot and you took a box cutter and began chopping up lengths and tying his wrists and ankles to the arms and legs on the chair. You put the box cutter into your pocket and skipped upstairs back into the hallway and went off into your room, pulling out an old t-shirt and started ripping it up while you strode back into the basement, closing the door behind you. As soon as you got to your boyfriend you wrapped the cloth around his head and into his mouth, tying it in the back. This was quite a sight, you thoroughly enjoyed seeing Karkat gagged and bound, it may have even turned you on if this was a different kind of situation. Actually, who are you trying to fool, you've been aroused for a few minutes now.

Looking back at his body allowed a thought to cross your mind, you need to mark him as yours forever. That way, if somehow he escapes, everyone will always know who he belongs to. You bit the inside of your cheek and pulled out the box cutter, sliding over to his side and wrapped your fingers around his wrist. You forgot about his broken arm, but you didn't care much anymore, though you made sure this was his good one before you placed the blade to his skin and started to carve your name, making the cuts deep enough to scar, but not too deep. You didn't want the pain to wake him up, so after every curve you glanced up to his face, which occasionally showed a grimace or wince, and before you knew it you could make out the red letters of your name in his arm, the blood dripping down his skin and you ran your hand through it, collecting most of the plasma substance and brought it up to his face, slapping his cheek hard and leaving behind the red imprint of your hand with his blood. That seemed to shock him awake and he blinked his eyes wide, panic riddled into his irises as he glanced all around him and then to you. 

God, you loved that look in his eyes, and the smirk you sent him only seemed to vex him further into a panic.

This was going to be the best days of the rest of your lives.

**Author's Note:**

> I was given an excuse to write violent Gamkar. So, I did, since I needed a distraction from The Kids Are Not Alright, which I will update soon!


End file.
